“LOOK, I DON’T know how you think—”
The man, Burke, took a step around the table and held up a picture. “This is her, right?” He stabbed a finger into the picture.
Cull growled and leaned in closer. His heart slammed against his ribs. No doubt, it was Monica staring back at him from the photo. “Is there a reason why you came?” No way in hell would he give out information to some stranger who showed up unexpectedly. This man could be anyone.
Burke returned the picture to his pocket. “I’ve been looking for Sally. I’ve contacted every store, hospital, you name it, within a hundred miles. Thankfully, a nurse recognized Sally and called me.” He dug into his pocket again and this time he withdrew a missing flyer with Monica’s picture. “I made hundreds of these and passed them out.”
“And you are who?” Cull slurred, feeling reality slam into his bubble.
“I’m her fiancé.” The man boldly held Cull’s gaze.
His balls tightened and he clenched his hands into fists. Pulling himself together, he chuckled. “She’s not mentioned a fiancé, or any man for that matter.” He could practically feel Kiersten’s disgruntled stare on his back.
The man shifted from one expensive loafer to the other. “I spoke with the hospital doctor and he told me enough that I know she can’t remember me. Something about memory loss.”
Damn doctor. Cull had half a mind to go to the hospital and wring the man’s neck for giving out private information that could put Monica in danger. “Look…”
“I have other pictures.” The man dug into his pockets and dragged out a stack of pictures, holding them up high for Cull to see.
The first picture Monica had a bright smile. Her hair was long and blowing in the breeze. It was a copy of the one she had when he found her. Cull’s chest tightened. Taking the pictures from the man, Cull looked through each of them, all twenty, of Monica and this man who said his name was Burke. She looked happy, satisfied…and Cull’s heart dropped.
“Where are you from?” Cull asked.
“Cheyenne. That’s where we lived, together.”
Kiersten stepped forward. “Can I grab some coffee?”
“No,” Cull barked.
“How about some whiskey?” she asked.
He gave her a side glance and she held up her hands in defense. “Sorry.”
“Kiersten, will you leave us alone?” Cull said with an agitated tone.
“I don’t think—”
He guessed she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t lose his temper. “It’ll be fine. I might take some coffee after all.”
With a hesitant nod, she disappeared into the kitchen and Cull turned his complete attention on Burke who stood in front of him like a wrecking ball. Handing back the pictures, Cull swiped a hand down his jaw. This could go two ways. He could tell the stranger to take a hike, which meant that he could keep Mon—Sally, or whatever her real name was. However, how fair would that be to her? She deserved to know the truth, and he couldn’t take that away from her. On the other hand, Cull needed to be careful. Just because a man strolled in with a stack of pictures and a name drop didn’t mean he could be entirely trusted.
The man must have sensed Cull’s trepidation.
“I know it must seem crazy for me to come here, but can I see her? Then we can see what she wants to do. I’m sure she’ll want to get back to her life.”
Cull swallowed against the constriction in his throat. He needed a few minutes, a few centuries, to gain his equilibrium. It wasn’t everyday a man found out that the very woman he loved, made love to, was engaged to another man. His job was to protect her before everything.
“I think it’s best I speak to her first. Since she doesn’t have her memory, I don’t want to scare her.”
Burke nodded. “I’m staying at the Lighthouse Bed and Breakfast in town. Can you bring her there so we can talk?”
“I will, if she wants to come.” Cull forced the words through thin lips.
Burke hesitated then strolled to the door. “If you don’t have her there by tomorrow, I’ll contact the police. I’m not wanting to be mean, but she doesn’t belong here. She has a home. Show her the pictures.” The man sighed and he left.
Cull rubbed his tired eyes. He wasn’t worried about the police, but he was damn scared for Mon—Sally.
So, her name was Sally Holloway? He liked it.
“She needs to know,” Kiersten said from the doorway into the kitchen.
He turned. “I’m going to tell her,” he mumbled.
“Are you sure?” One thin brow lifted over skeptical eyes.
“Why don’t you believe me? I said I would,” he growled.
With an expression of someone who knew him well, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I know you, and you, my sweet brother, have fallen for her.”
He dropped down onto the couch, trying to wrap his head around the last few hours. He wanted to deny his sister’s words, but why should he bother? He did love Monica, or Sally. No doubt, he’d fallen for her and his greatest desire was to spend his life with her, but suddenly he realized his desires were jeopardized. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be where he was right now.
Kiersten dropped down next to him, patting him on the shoulder. “You knew this was bound to happen.” With his stern look, she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like I’m worried about you? I am, but you must see the brighter side to this. If there’s a chance for you and Sally to move forward, she’ll have to know who she is. Then she can decide, fully aware, of what she wants. Trust in fate, bro.”
“Since when did you become such a romantic, sis?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”
Cull had no idea how he’d break it to Sally that her fiancé was in town.
****
When Monica awoke, she was alone in bed. Pulling on a T-shirt, she padded out of the room and glanced around for Cull. She found him standing at the stove, cooking.
“Wow. He makes love like an expert and he cooks too. How lucky can a girl be?” She wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his fresh clean scent. Remembering how they’d showered together last night made her toes curl. She wanted a repeat.
He turned, wooden spoon held high. “It’s just scrambled eggs and toast. Don’t have too high of expectations. It’s about the only thing I can cook.”
“I’m starving.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his neck, his chin, his cheek, feeling a new bulge rubbing her belly. “And so are you,” she teased.
“We need to talk.”
The seriousness of his tone made her look up. His eyes were dark and his jaw tight. Suddenly she lost her appetite. “Oh no, not this again.”
“Have a seat. I’ll spoon up the food and we can have a chat.”
“Do I have a choice?” She popped up a brow.
He smiled but it was forced. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Sullenly, she sat at the table and, when he set a plate of eggs in front of her, her stomach turned. “Did something happen from last night until this morning? How long did I sleep anyway?”
“Ten hours.”
She watched him dip a knife into the butter then spread it over his toast. He bit into the bread and chewed thoughtfully while she anticipated what he needed to say. Had he changed his mind about them in just ten hours?
“Cull, please just spit it out,” she demanded. “If you think we’re going too fast—” He shook his head. “No? Then did my snoring keep you awake? I know I do because I’ve woke myself up several nights—”
“We had a visitor last night after you’d fallen asleep.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Yes?”
“His name is Burke Combs.” There was a long pause. “Do you recognize the name?”
Mulling it around in her head, she shrugged. “No. Should I?”
“You probably should.” He dropped his half-eaten slice of toast to his plate. “He was actually here to see you.”
She stared at him, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “To see me? He knows me?”
Cull nodded. “He’s your fiancé.”
The space between them grew heavy and solid. The lines around his eyes appeared deeper. “My fiancé? That’s not possible,” she stammered.
“But you can’t be sure.”
“Yes, I can be. I’d know if I was engaged. His name would be a trigger of a memory,” she said firmly. “You’re not believing him, are you?”
With a shrug of his shoulder and a swipe of his hand down his angular jaw, he sighed. He stood, went over to the cabinet and took out an envelope. He handed it over to her. “You should look at these.”
“What are they?”
“Pictures.” He clasped his hands together in a fist. “I checked him out, and you too.”
“Me? What’s my name, Cull?”
“Sally Holloway.”
One corner of her lips played with a smile. “Yes, that’s me. I know it is.” She could feel that it was right. Going back to the chair, she sat down. She took out the stack of pictures and looked at each one as fuzzy memories filled her head. “I do remember him some.”
There was a long, tense silence and then Cull got up, went to one of the drawers in the kitchen and took out a folder. He placed it in front of her and sat back down.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Kace faxed me over information. Look at it.”
“I don’t think I want to.” She held his gaze, beseeching him for…what? “I don’t care about the past. I like where I am right now. With you.”
He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart. You need to know who you are.”
“Maybe I already do know who I am. I’ve found myself here, at the ranch.”
“But this isn’t just about you. He’s been looking for you. He wants to see you.”
“He’s here?” Her stomach dropped.
“He’s staying in town.”
The hair on the back of her neck lifted and she choked back a sob. “What if I don’t want to?”
“I won’t force you to do anything, but I don’t think he’ll give up. You owe it to yourself, sweetheart.”
She let her eyes close, taking a moment to absorb the news. They’d been living in a fantasy world here on the ranch, one where Cull had become her lover, her protector…a man she wanted to spend her life with. He felt like home to her and she wanted nothing, nor no one, to ruin that.
Opening her eyes, she took in his sincere expression and stood, going to the window to look out. Hugging herself, she watched as a bird sat on a branch outside. It looked for breakfast and finally it swooped down and grabbed a worm. This morning should have been different. They should have woken up together, made love again, shared breakfast and talked about what they’d do for the day. She saw his reflection in the window. He had his head lowered and his shoulders were slumped. She could see this was hard on him too. Maybe she could convince him that she didn’t need to know who she was, or what that folder held sitting on the table. Something told her it wouldn’t fly. There was a lot she could lose here. What if she met this Burke and everything came back, including the love she had for him? That couldn’t be possible because the only man in her heart was Cull.
He was a man with such great strength and she’d leaned on him a lot for the past few weeks. Most importantly, she trusted him. She knew he’d never steer her wrong, or betray her, and certainly never let her down. He was a good man.
Why did a strong sense of betrayal flood her heart?
Had she been betrayed before? Had this man who showed up on the Cade’s doorstep betray her? Why didn’t she have any recollection of loving him?
If she refused to do this there wouldn’t be a future for her and Cull. To have a future she needed to clear her past, whatever there was to take care of. She squeezed her arms tighter around her shoulders. She needed to be brave and do what was best.
There were only a few feet separating Cull and her, yet the distance was growing by the second. She wanted to say something—do something—but her feet were frozen to the floor. Finally turning around, she looked at the man who’d shown her so much love.
Crossing the room, she picked up the folder and opened the cover, looking down at the grainy picture of herself. It was faxed over from the Department of Motor Vehicles. “I think you should take some time, read through the documents and let me know what you decide.”
“Okay.” What more could she say?
Once he was gone, she sat on the couch and went through piece after piece of her life. Although there wasn’t much personal information, it was an open doorway into a life she didn’t want to know again. She was thirty-two, no children, never married, and her last known address, which was on her ID, was in Cheyenne. Sure enough, back two years ago, she and Burke had registered for a marriage license. So, he was telling the truth?
Swallowing the sobs that threatened to send her into a mess, she closed the folder and stood. Going into the bedroom, she unzipped the bag she’d had when she was found and took out the oversized jeans and T-shirt. She brought them to her nose and inhaled deeply. They had a musky, outdoorsy smell. The same vivid image came to mind. It was of her sitting on a bench, cradling a take-out coffee in her hands. And nothing else.
The clothes were a relic from a different time and place, for a different person.
Removing the T-shirt, she dropped it aside and dressed in her clothing, instantly feeling out of place. The woman she was now, the one she’d become over the last few weeks, wasn’t the same person.
Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, she squinted at the image. The clothes hung on her and were ratty. Why did she have what appeared to be someone else’s clothing? All she could think of was how much she wanted to be in Cull’s arms.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. She had to see Burke. Maybe this awful spell would be broken and she’d find out that she didn’t love him. Of course, she didn’t love Burke. She didn’t know him.
If the truth of her heart could be figured out she would be free to make a choice. Yes, that could work. Would Burke understand that she wasn’t the same person he knew?
She’d have to be strong.